Moans, Mummies, and Murder (The Dead-End Drive-In Series Book 2) Read online

  “No, I didn’t. Whoever it was wore a black ski mask,” she lied.

  The black mask wasn’t very original, Belle thought, but her sister wasn’t very good at lying. However, Belle knew Anna couldn’t tell them the truth. Otherwise they might take her to the clinic to get treated for a concussion or something.

  “I see. Did he say anything? Did he threaten you?”

  She shook her head. “No, just came in, took the mummy, and left.”

  “Maybe that’s our killer,” Rod suggested, biting into a donut.

  “I’m leaning that way, too,” Dan replied.

  Belle felt a little bad the Anna had to lie, putting the police on a false trail, but what else could they do?

  Dan continued. “Which leads more credibility to the fact that the mummy you guys had in that box was stolen from the museum. If we can track it down and verify it is authentic, we’ll need to contact the museum and let them know we have it.”

  “Shouldn’t we contact them now?” Anna asked.

  “No, I don’t think so. We don’t have the mummy, yet.”

  “But you do have the scrap of cloth from the mummy?” Belle noted.

  “We think it’s from the mummy, but we aren’t totally sure yet,” Rod added.

  “If we preemptively jump on this and tell them we think we have the mummy, or that we think it’s in Sunken Grove, and then we turn out to be wrong, it could make our department look bad. If that happens, we might not get a raise in funds next year,” Dan speculated.

  “I guess,” Belle said.

  “Not that I don’t love being one of only two officers in town, but I wouldn’t mind having one or two new guys on the force,” Rod added.

  Belle knew that if there were more men on the force, Rod could focus more on the forensic side of things. On the other hand, it just felt a little irresponsible not to be completely open with the museum and the curator about the information they had.

  Of course, being a fan of true crime novels, Belle was aware that often police kept things from the citizens. It was just part of the politics and procedure of the work.

  Still, she didn’t like that idea.

  “Well, I better get back to work.” Standing up, she gave her sister a look that indicated she wanted to talk to her alone.

  Anna took the social cue and stood up as well. There was one thing for being sisters, despite all the tension and arguments throughout the year, they often found themselves on the same wavelength—so much so that they could almost read each other’s thoughts.

  “We better get a move on, as well,” Dan agreed.

  “We have a ton of things to do if we want to figure out this case,” Rod said.

  “First things first, we need to do a full street sweep of town for either that masked man or our mummy.”

  “You two better take some of this food for the road. Those searches can get tedious,” Val said, gathering up food into a large square take-out box.

  “You don’t have to twist my arm,” Dan laughed.

  Giving a quick goodbye, Belle and Anna walked into the other room where they could be alone. “We need to get to that museum,” Belle said straight out.

  “I couldn’t agree more. They deserve to know what we have.”

  “Especially since we both know that this is the mummy. How else would it get up and just walk away like that? Remember the curse they mentioned in the newspaper? We need to talk to Martin Freeman.”

  “He’ll know how to stop it?” Anna asked.

  “If he actually believes in the curse. He may not.”

  “What do we do if he doesn’t?”

  “Let’s just hope he does,” Belle said. “I’ll grab my jacket.”

  “Wait, if we leave now, we won’t be back until late tonight. What about managing the restaurant?”

  “You’re right. I’ll ask Val if she can take care of it,” she said, turning to go back into the kitchen.

  “No, I’ll go alone,” Anna insisted.

  “Are you sure about that?”

  “Positive. If we tell Val were going to New Orleans last minute, she might catch on to what we’re doing and tell Dan.”

  Belle pursed her lips. “You’re right. I should stay behind and work with Val tonight. I just get nervous about you going alone to investigate a murder and a mummy’s curse.”

  “Hey, I’m the older sister. That’s my job to worry.”

  Belle smiled. “I’m so glad you’re back in town.”

  “You don’t need to worry. I’ll go with her,” Harlem’s ghostly visage suddenly appeared in the glass mirror behind the counter.

  “Hey, you were eavesdropping?” Anna frowned, putting her hands on her hips.

  “It’s a lot easier now that I’m a ghost,” he smirked, his pencil mustache pointing up on both sides. “It’s also easier for me to snoop around while you’re asking questions if I need to.”

  “It’s a good idea, sis,” Belle pointed out.

  “Very well. I guess you can be my second set of eyes and ears.”

  “Great, as soon as you’re ready to go, so am I.”

  “I just need my jacket,” she informed him, heading for the stairs. Before she left, she paused and looked back at them. “There is still one thing that bothers me. Didn’t the newspaper say the mummy could only move if someone had the jade beetle from inside of his body?”

  Belle bit her bottom lip while she considered this fact. “That’s true. That must mean someone has that beetle and is controlling the mummy.”

  “And whoever that is might just be our killer,” Anna deduced.

  CHAPTER 11

  * * *

  As Anna drove along the main road leading out of Sunken Grove, she spotted Sammy Bartleby getting out of a small truck near the Runside Motel. The small town only had one motel and one hotel. The hotel was a historic building in the downtown area while the motel looked like any other generic nightly accommodations.

  It looked as if Sammy intended to stay a while in Sunken Grove, mostly likely to search for her lost mummy on her own. Anna worried that maybe the woman was planning on breaking into the drive-in later that night.

  Perhaps Harlem could keep watch and scare her away if need be.

  Slumping down in her seat so she wouldn’t be seen, she slowed the car until she saw Sammy disappear inside the building.

  Letting out a sigh of relief, she pulled off on the side of the road.

  “What are we doing?” Harlem asked.

  “I just want to get a peek inside of her car.”

  “What for?”

  “Sometimes, you can learn a lot about someone based off how they keep their car.”

  Parking off behind a small thicket of trees next to the bayou waters, Anna climbed out and moved toward the truck in question, keeping her head low the entire time in case Sammy popped back out for whatever reason.

  Harlem, not having to sneak, beat her to the truck.

  “Anything?” she whispered, crouching behind the old clunker.

  “She’s sort of messy,” he admitted.

  Scooting up, she looked inside and saw that the ghost was right. However, unlike other dirty cars that had old fast-food cartons, candy wrappers, receipts, and other junk all around, this car only had papers everywhere. On the passenger side seat was a folder that had spit all its contents out. It was labeled Item Number Seven Seven One Four: Mummy.

  “Looks like this mess was an accident. She probably brought the item folder to keep it with the mummy when she picked it up.” In addition to rows of numbers and different letters on many of the papers, some of them appeared to have photocopies of Egyptian hieroglyphics.

  “Makes sense,” he agreed. “But why not at least pick it up a little after it spilled?”

  “She probably was too overwhelmed about her mummy being stolen to care at the moment.” Besides the spilled papers, there wasn’t anything else too interesting inside except for a little gold charm hanging around the mirror in the shape of an ankh. Moving
back toward the trees, Anna got back in the car. “One thing I’m not sure about, what happened to her mummy? She has the prop folder and everything.”

  “Maybe it got up and walked off, too,” Harlem joked.

  “Very funny.”

  “Hey, I think I’m going to head back. I just thought of something.”

  “What about snooping around while I ask questions?”

  “This might be more important.”

  “What is it?” Anna pressed.

  “Maybe nothing, but I have to be sure. See ya.” Climbing out through the closed door, he started to float back home.

  * * *

  Continuing on her own, the drive to New Orleans only took about three hours. It was usually shorter, but Anna was an extra cautious driver who didn’t believe in speeding, even a little. She arrived at the museum around four, pulling into the parking lot situated behind the large building. The whole place looked like some gigantic Aztec temple, created out of stone and sporting multiple carvings and hieroglyphics on the sides.

  Parking her car, she slipped out and walked into the front door of the building.

  The lobby to the museum was magnificent. Velvet ropes led patrons up to a large wooden front desk. Behind the desk was an atrium with red, blue, and green tiled floor pattern. Plants grew up all around the room and a large fountain spouted water in the center. On either side were marble stairways leading up to a balcony in the middle.

  The most impressive part was the replica skeleton of the tyrannosaurus-rex standing just in front of the balcony, it’s head coming up just above the railing with its mouth wide open in a silent roar.

  Shaking off her momentary awe, she headed forward through the ropes. She recognized that there were three security guards at the front desk. Wondering if that was normal or a recent added precaution, she spoke to them. “Excuse me?”

  “Yes, ma’am?” the youngest of the three said, turning to her. He had a very rigid jawline, was clean shaven, and sported a bald head. The lack of hair seemed more of a choice than a necessity, and it looked good on the man.

  “I was wondering if the curator is available?”

  “Unfortunately, we had a theft last night and Mr. Freeman is preoccupied with that.”

  “Actually, that’s what I’m here about.”

  The blue uniformed man frowned and folded his arms. “I’m sorry, but no more reporters will be allowed to see Mr. Freeman for the rest of the day. He already gave his comments on the matter early this morning.”

  His stern face was sort of cute and Anna couldn’t help but let out a laugh, which she knew was a mistake. “You think I’m a reporter? I’m sorry, you’re mistaken.”

  “Then who are you?”

  “I think I might have some information on the theft that could help.”

  He raised an eyebrow at her. “All new information and tips should go directly to the police.”

  “I’m aware of that.” She was getting a little impatient. She’d already gone to the police and they were holding back on doing anything until they had more evidence.

  “Then I suggest you follow that procedure.”

  “No, you don’t understand. I need to talk to the curator directly about the curse,” she blurted out. Instantly, she wanted to slurp the words back in. She felt like a fool. She might as well have said she’d seen the mummy walk.

  “Ma’am, I think you need to leave.” He narrowed his light green eyes at her, his dark eyebrows turning downward impatiently.

  “But—” she tried to argue.

  The guard stepped around the desk, the other two men nodding their approval, to escort her out.

  “No, I need to talk to Mr. Freeman.”

  “Come along, now.” His voice was firm, commanding, sending an unexpected shiver up her spine. Her face grew hot and red from embarrassment as his hand found her arm—strong but gentle—and started to lead her out.

  “Mr. Morrissey,” a voice called down from the top of the balcony.

  Pausing, the guard looked back up toward the man standing there. “Mr. Freeman, I was just escorting this woman out.”

  “Let her come up and see me,” he instructed the guard, his voice echoing through the atrium like some omnipotent being.

  “Very well, sir.” Letting go of her arm, he gave her a serious look, his vibrant sea green eyes sending chills down her spine again.

  “Thank you,” she managed to whisper, running over and climbing the steps toward the man at the top.

  CHAPTER 12

  * * *

  “Mr. Freeman. It’s a pleasure to be able to talk to you,” Anna greeted the museum curator with an extended hand.

  “I’m sure the pleasure is all mine . . . if I only knew who you are,” he admitted with a smile. He was an older gentleman with a perfectly trimmed white beard and slicked-back gray hair.

  “Oh, I’m sorry. My name is Anna-Lee Francis, but you can just call me Anna.”

  He motioned for her to follow him through a large doorway. “Well, Ms. Francis, how about we step into my office for a bit. We can discuss the mummy theft in there.”

  Anna followed him into the long hallway and ultimately into a large and impressive office at the end. The walls were lined with bookshelf after bookshelf of history texts on various subjects. The desk had a little green reading lamp, and Anna wondered if it was an antique.

  Hanging from the lamp’s pull-chain was a little golden ankh.

  The curator closed the door behind them. “Have a seat.”

  Without another moment’s hesitation, she sat down in one of two large leather chairs. Freeman walked around the desk and took his seat.

  Anna opened her mouth to say something, but Freeman held up a hand, making her stop. “Before you say anything, let me explain. I’ve been bombarded today with reporters, soothsayers, and doomsday predictions all day today. If what you have to say isn’t anything new or interesting, I reserve the right to kick you out.”

  “Well, I’m none of those things,” she pointed out.

  “But, I did happen to overhear part of your argument with Mr. Morrissey, in particular, the portion where you talked about the curse.”

  She shifted uneasily, wondering if he was judging her.

  “I’ve heard plenty gibberish about curses today from many people. After all, New Orleans is filled with all kinds of people of different occult beliefs.”

  Anna hesitated on her next question. “Then why ask me to come up here to talk about it?”

  “Call it a gut feeling, but I felt that you had something important to share.”

  “I do,” she jumped in. She thought a moment, looking over Freeman and trying to judge what the man was thinking. “Do you believe in the curse of Ammoth?” She felt silly asking the question out loud. At the very least, it got straight to the point and cleared the air before she made a total fool of herself trying to beat around the bush.

  “You don’t study ancient Egyptian lore for as long as I have without questioning at least some of the things they wrote about and believed.”

  “So, you do?” she asked, trying to clarify.

  “Let’s just say I don’t disbelieve.” He held up a finger. “But, it would take something pretty serious to sway me one way or the other.”

  “Well, if you saw what I did, you would completely believe.”

  Leaning forward and placing his hands on the desk, Freeman made a steeple with his fingers. “Go on.”

  “Recently, my sister received a decorative mummy’s coffin—”

  “A sarcophagus?”

  “Right, for her restaurant. She’d ordered it from a prop rental company here in town. Inside of that coffin was a mummy. We were confused because the rental listing didn’t include a mummy.”

  “And you think this is my stolen mummy?” he exclaimed, raising an eyebrow.

  “Correction, I know it’s your mummy.”

  “Then why not call the police? Isn’t that what you were instructed to do?”

  Th
is was where things got interesting. “I did call the police, but they didn’t believe me.”

  “Did you show them the mummy?”

  She licked her lips. “Well, no.”

  Freeman’s brow fell into an irritated grimace. “Why the devil not?”

  “Because, Mr. Freeman, I watched that mummy get up out of that stone coffin and walk right out the front door of the building. He was long gone by the time I called the police.”

  There was an awkward pause while the curator looked her up and down. “Let me get this straight. You’re telling me that you saw my mummy, the one that was stolen last night, get up and just waltz out the door.”

  “Yes,” she whispered.

  “And how exactly would he be able to do that?” he asked.

  She shrugged, still trying to read how he was reacting to all of this. “I’m not sure. Someone must have taken the jade scarab and is using it. Maybe it was what they were after this whole time?”

  Freeman slapped the desk with an open palm, surprising Anna. “You had my mummy in your possession and just let it disappear?” His face was grim.

  “What was I supposed to do? Grab a living mummy and drag it back to his coffin?” she defended herself.

  “How dare you come in here and blatantly tell me a lie like that,” he snapped.

  “What?”

  “Putting some credibility in the ancient beliefs is one thing, pretending that a mummy can just get up and walk around is something else completely.”

  “Wait, wait, I thought you said you didn’t disbelieve in the curse.”

  “Don’t you think, if I realized I could bring a three-thousand-year-old mummy back to life just by using that jade scarab, that I would have done it years ago? Can you imagine what that would mean for history and science?”

  “But he did come back to life,” she shouted.

  “It simply isn’t possible. Either you’re a liar or you're simply delusional.”

  “Coming here was a mistake.” Standing up, she turned toward the door.

  “Don’t move a muscle. I’m calling the police,” he ordered, picking up the phone.